


Keep Vigil

by Ki_ru



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Collars, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Humiliation, M/M, References to Gangbangs, Spanking, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 02:24:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13940598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ki_ru/pseuds/Ki_ru
Summary: When Vigil joined Rainbow, Tachanka found him extremely irritating. He still does, only now he's found a use for him.





	Keep Vigil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vindito](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vindito/gifts).



> This was written for the exceedingly lovely [blitznbandit](https://blitznbandit.tumblr.com/) who indulged me in return with a [Mute/Rook/Glaz threesome](https://blitznbandit.tumblr.com/post/171606572725/artistwriter-trade-with-kiruuuuu-who-requested-a) that I still can't wrap my head around. Thank you so much♥

Tachanka is a reasonable man. He knows what to expect from life, knows his limits and knows how to stay in control – of himself, his temper, most situations. He’s practical, independent, realistic and doesn’t give a damn about what people think; he’s being paid to protect civilians, not to _care_. Some people give him shit for it, most don’t dare, it’s all the same to him. He values loyalty higher than friendship because friends might still stab you in the back, though a mix is unsurprisingly ideal: people who will protect him with their lives despite what they think of him are good company though his boys are the _best_ company, sticking to him like glue and family and blood brothers for no other reason than they belong. The blind devotion is not something he could explain.

Regardless, he’s not a passionate man. Overwhelming emotions are biased and justice needs to be devoid of emotions, objective, neutral or else it’s not fair, _cannot_ claim to be just. It’s a principle that follows him throughout his life, guides his social interactions and colours his relationships that have always been benefit-oriented, pragmatic, sensible. Mind games are not for him, he’s brutally honest to a fault and makes his intentions clear. The ones who can appreciate that in him have proven excellent partners.

And then there’s this young Korean with his nervous smiles and restless hands and he fucking _pisses Tachanka off_. It’s like he was raised in a barn, never learned to speak up, make eye contact or behave like a goddamn normal human being. Just _seeing_ him in the first week after he joins Rainbow is enough to spark Tachanka's anger and during a briefing, he snaps, has had enough of Vigil hovering uncertainly in the background and barks at him to sit the fuck down and not be such a nuisance. Oh, and how he comes to regret this loss of composure the very next second.

Because Vigil’s eyes go wide, he freezes for a heartbeat before almost throwing himself onto the next available chair, visibly shaken and intimidated, avoids looking at Tachanka and _oh_.

That’s interesting. The boy is scared of him.

The realisation is too delicious to ignore. Vigil probably dreads interacting with most of the other operators, that much is clear, yet Tachanka has never seen him react this fast or obey without question. He decides to test his theory by snapping at him a few more times, giving more and more ridiculous orders that the boy carries out quietly and without even telling on him and it’s… he can’t lie to himself, it gives him _ideas_. If he’s very honest, he wants to hold him down and fuck him until he can’t walk and this is surprising. Because Tachanka is not a passionate man. He doesn’t let himself be swayed by whimsical notions, flights of fancy.

Tachanka is a reasonable man. He’s a generous lover and demands explicit consent. He’s not lacking in options usually, so why attempt to take what isn’t his? He has a type: self-sufficient, confident, preferably his age, composed and experienced in bed. He rarely strays from the tried and tested formula, everything else just begs for trouble.

So why is he grabbing this infuriating Korean boy by the collar and stuffing him into the supply closet again? He really should stop this before it gets out of hand. “You’d look so pretty gagging on my cock”, he tells Vigil without meaning to and no, who is he kidding, the sight would be delectable.

And then the moment of truth happens. Because while Vigil still looks terrified, he sinks down to his knees and puts his hands on Tachanka's belt, biting his lip and eyelids fluttering nervously. Tachanka has trouble believing what he sees but he’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

The whole affair is messy, Vigil has really no idea of what he’s doing, drools all over himself and chokes repeatedly yet he’s astonishingly determined, uses his hands and tries to swallow as much of Tachanka's dick as he can, allows him to push his head forwards, at some point just grips Tachanka's thighs and holds on for dear life as he thrusts into his mouth not as deeply as he’d like to. Tachanka comes with a loud groan, unloading first down Vigil’s throat and then on his face while he’s coughing. He was right though. He does look _extremely_ pretty.

“What am I supposed to do with you?”, he grumbles, wipes some of his come off Vigil’s brow and pushes his finger between the wet and swollen lips. The young man merely sucks on it, looks up at him, wordless yet calmer than Tachanka has ever seen him outside of a mission. He makes a decision. This lost soul needs guidance.

 

Two fingers hooked into the already tight collar, ready to pull if necessary, Tachanka muses on how quickly his pet has improved. He’s sitting on his bed, Vigil on the floor between his legs, obediently lapping and sucking at him, still struggling to fit all of Tachanka's length into his throat but a sharp tug on the leather between his fingers convinces Vigil to at least try. His mouth is a wet heat of which Tachanka can’t get enough, his lips silky and his chokes music to his ears. “You’re such an eager little slut”, he murmurs because Vigil _is_ and in response the young man glances up at him, perpetually worrying about whether he’s doing it right, some pride sneaking in whenever Tachanka lets out a pleased groan. “Go deeper. You know how I like it.”

He couldn’t even say how often they’ve done this by now, Tachanka dragging the Korean to his room at the end of the day, demanding things some of which worry even him in quiet moments and Vigil obeying for reasons unknown, ready to learn and readier to hand himself over to Tachanka completely. The power his words and gestures hold is intoxicating, the rush he feels when Vigil silently obliges addicting – he can’t get enough of the shy gazes, the occasional hesitation, the complete and utter submission. A tongue slides over the underside of his cock and he growls, so Vigil does it again and holds his breath when Tachanka pulls him in and holds him there, enjoying the tight heat of the Korean’s throat working around him as Vigil tries to swallow.

This is one of his favourite parts, together with the way Vigil shudders around his thick fingers on the occasions Tachanka feels generous enough and preps him himself: he can see tears forming in the corners of Vigil’s eyes, desperation seeping in as the need for air increases and yet he keeps perfectly still, for some reason trusting Tachanka not to go overboard. “You’re the perfect plaything”, Tachanka says, “you wouldn’t even care if you passed out, eh? Die happily as long as my dick’s anywhere inside you.”

For obvious reasons, Vigil doesn’t answer but Tachanka notices movement in his peripheral vision where there should be none. Mercilessly, he drags Vigil off his length and barks at him while he’s gasping and gulping in air: “Who told you you could touch yourself?” He kicks the offending hand away from the Korean’s crotch, earns a whine and presses his sole against the weeping erection, makes Vigil’s eyes widen and his hips actually buck into Tachanka's foot even though the pressure can’t be comfortable. “Keep your fucking hands off your useless dick, it’s not like you’re ever going to fuck anything with it anymore.”

Vigil is too far gone already, there’s this reckless glint in his eyes that means Tachanka can basically do whatever he wants, say whatever comes to mind – in this state, he’s malleable, gives himself up completely and Tachanka has to admit he capitalises on this. The first few times, it took a while for the younger man to reach this state, nowadays his own fingers up his ass and Tachanka's cock down his throat already do the trick. With reddened cheeks, he pulls his fingers out and uses that hand to support himself, leans back while the other wraps around Tachanka's foot, keeping it in place as he grinds his hips against it, moaning wantonly. He reminds Tachanka of a dog in heat, desperate for any stimulation, begging to be allowed to mate.

His toes push against the dark head and Vigil’s breath hitches. His lips are shiny from spit and precum, the black collar a tasteful contrast to his pale skin and Tachanka wants to _destroy_ him. He never stopped irritating the Russian, his social skills have barely improved over time and he steadfastly refuses to open up about his demons. Still. They don’t need to talk while Tachanka fucks him.

“Get on the bed”, he orders with a last push of his foot before he withdraws it and Vigil scrambles to do so, crawls onto the sheets on his hands and knees, grips the fabric in anticipation but Tachanka is not having it. He’s used to Vigil’s habit of trying to conceal his face, so he kneels behind him, takes a moment to appreciate the view of his inviting hole, his erection pointing down, his strong legs and muscled back before he brings down his hand on one of the round buttocks forcefully and with a loud smack that makes Vigil jolt, gasp and look back at him hurt and confused. “Turn around, you’re not going to hide from me. I want to see what a whore you are.”

The Korean’s expression turns conflicted and he even starts to protest: “But – I don’t –”

Another slap, this one harder and leaving behind an extremely satisfying red handprint. Tachanka knows that the younger man likes the pain, sometimes is even sloppy in his preparation on purpose so he can feel it more keenly; Tachanka always notices and never holds back. “Don’t make me punish you.” Predictably, Vigil chews on his lower lip a little longer so Tachanka spanks him another time, hitting the same patch of skin that must be tender by now but at least it convinces Vigil to lie down on his back, legs spread and visibly embarrassed. “I’m not going to hold back for you.”

The younger man nods, the blush deepening, so Tachanka lubes up his throbbing cock, scoots closer and hooks Vigil’s legs over his shoulders unceremoniously. He knows Vigil hates this position, feels exposed, he reads it in the way he avoids eye contact and tenses up. Tachanka guides his tip with one hand, lines it up and pushes into the waiting ring of muscle, increases the force when he feels resistance, hears Vigil utter a strangled moan. His limbs relax, his face goes slack and he’s utterly lost now, drowning under Tachanka and revelling in the feeling of being filled. Tachanka is familiar with it, has seen it countless times before and never gets tired of it, just like he never tires of the tightness that encompasses him right now, clenches around him and soothes his need.

Once he’s bottomed out, he pauses to examine the Korean under him, cheeks pink and a thin sheen of sweat covering his body, returning his gaze dazedly. “I wonder what that colleague of yours would say if she saw you like this”, he ponders out loud and though most of his words are lost on Vigil in this state, these ones penetrate the fog in his mind, induce a slight panic Tachanka whole-heartedly enjoys. “Impaled on my cock, begging for it, shameless. Hm? What do you think she’d say?”

He doesn’t give Vigil any opportunity to answer, instead pulls out almost all the way and slams back in, forcing another moan out of Vigil’s abused throat that he likes so much he does it again straight away. The walls of Vigil’s insides accommodate him effortlessly, he was thorough today, probably anticipating Tachanka's impatience and urge to inflict discomfort – Vigil is not bad at reading his moods. Maybe he should really keep him.

The pace he sets is brutal but nothing the younger man can’t handle, his nails digging into creamy thighs as his hips snap forward again and again, his shaft driving into the willing body that’s really quite pleasing to look at, Tachanka has to admit. Vigil’s got a lot going for him. Most of all he’s tight and compliant, allows himself to be bossed around and Tachanka finds himself wondering how far he’ll actually go. “You think I should invite someone to watch?”, he grunts, his words emphasised by hard thrusts, the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the space between them, “I bet my boys would appreciate the sight.”

He can feel Vigil clench around him, added stimulation to the already heady sensation of shagging him raw that’s starting to cloud his mind, lust pulsing through his body. He indulges in the fantasy, imagines Kapkan lazily jerking off to the two of them, egging Tachanka on, Fuze impatiently grabbing one of Vigil’s hands so he can fuck his fist. On a whim, he stops, pulls out his cock and forces Vigil’s knees almost down to his head, displaying his hungry entrance for his viewing pleasure and teases the rim with the tip of his erection, the touch electrifying and the effect on the younger man just as intended.

Vigil’s eyes are wide and wild and almost black, mouth gaping open in shock, his hands scrabbling for purchase, digging into Tachanka's hips, trying to get him to continue, despairing and frantic and oh so lovely. “What do you want? Use your words, kid.” He drags his shaft along the entrance and can’t suppress a smirk at how the Korean trembles at the feeling.

“I need –” He’s gasping like a fish out of water, usually Tachanka doesn’t stop once he’s started the merciless pummelling, only today he craves seeing Vigil squirm. “Please, _please_ , just –” A helpless groan claws its way out of his throat as Tachanka forces his thick head back inside, feeling the sphincter contract around him, only to withdraw yet again. “ _Tachanka_ ”, Vigil whines and he almost can’t resist the sudden urge to slam back home upon hearing his name, instead he keeps dipping his tip in slowly.

“We could share you”, he continues and watches the Korean writhe under him, roll his hips into nothing, his neglected penis dripping precum, “your hole can take a beating. The boys can pass you around and you’d still be gagging for my cock, even filled with their cum you’d come begging.” The friction is overwhelming, his control waning. He can’t keep this up for much longer but he wants to hear Vigil admit to how much he’s come to rely on Tachanka.

“Yes”, Vigil whispers and nods his head eagerly, “yes, please.”

“Please what?” The younger man is conflicted, embarrassed, so Tachanka unhurriedly slides in all the way, forcing him to inhale deeply and stretch uncomfortably, still folded in half. “Look at me, you dirty slut.”

The younger man struggles to oblige and shudders as Tachanka pulls out once more, leaving him empty and gaping. “Tachanka.” His voice is quiet, broken, pleading. “Take me. I need you.”

It’s good enough. He growls and snaps his hips forward, breaching him and reaching deep into Vigil’s insides, satisfying the primal desire pulsing in his groin. Again his thrusts are merciless, his mind still toying with the idea of whoring Vigil out, watching idly as his boys stuff him on both ends, culminating in him dominating the younger man, using their cum as lube and marking him with his teeth, scratching him up so he doesn’t forget to whom he belongs, at whose mercy he ultimately is.

His hips are moving on their own, fast and so hard Vigil has to relinquish his hold on the bedsheets to grip the headboard, moaning in ecstasy and sinking deep into his almost spiritual state of pleasure with which Tachanka is intimately familiar. He himself makes no attempts to suppress any noises either, grunting and groaning at the feel of velvety heat around his cock, muscles convulsing around him, pleasure building up with each sharp thrust.

“Don’t come before I do”, he pants and Vigil understands, wraps a hand around his twitching shaft and pumps himself in time with Tachanka's thrusts, aiming to time his orgasm to the one that’s fast approaching in the Russian, inevitable and quicker than usual, a result of the mental image of Kapkan humping Vigil with a blissful look on his face while Glaz kneels over his face and feeds a blushing Vigil his cock in small movements. He could probably genuinely convince Kapkan to join them – Vigil himself needs no coercion, Tachanka's word alone is enough. That, or he just jams his fingers up his ass and massages him until the Korean doesn’t care about anything anymore.

The tightness is becoming too much: now that Vigil’s jerking himself, he contracts even more around Tachanka's girth, sucking him in greedily. Tachanka decides he doesn’t look out of it enough and adjusts the angle, points his thrusts upwards and drags his cock over Vigil’s prostate which earns him a strangled gasp and an even tighter passageway, so he keeps at it, making the Korean tremble and keen, hears himself moan at the increased friction.

He is pushed over the edge when Vigil cries his name, his _actual_ name, the syllables foreign on his tongue and the pronunciation wrong but Tachanka's dick quite obviously doesn’t care. With a last thrust, he slams into the Korean and stays there, shoots his sperm into his guts and feels Vigil come around him, clamp down in waves as he shivers and spurts come all over himself, both of them lost in their own orgasm. Tachanka feels pure bliss, all tension and stress drained out of him, sweet relief the only thing that remains. He lets Vigil’s insides milk him, extract every last bit of viscous liquid out of him, then he withdraws.

For a few moments, he basks in the afterglow, relaxes his limbs and admires the utterly fucked out mess before him. Vigil is still catching his breath, avoiding Tachanka's gaze and trying to cross his legs to hide his shame but Tachanka spreads them, strokes his thigh with one hand and touches the pad of a finger on the other to the abused hole, making Vigil jump. Curiously, he pushes in, feels the muscle grip it tightly, feels his own warm semen inside, swats Vigil’s hand away as he tries to interfere, discomfort written clearly in his expression. It’s tempting.

“Maybe I should really get someone else to fuck you before I do”, he muses. Surprisingly, it’s not all trepidation on the Korean’s face at this, he believes to have spotted something else too. Excitement.

Thinking about it, maybe he shouldn’t share Vigil after all. Others might want to corrupt him, he should protect him from possibly negative influences. After all, Tachanka is a reasonable man.


End file.
